


oops! ...I did it again

by mochis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Drunkenness, M/M, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochis/pseuds/mochis
Summary: Everything was planned meticulously: the cake, the flowers, the tuxedos, their vows - it was a picture perfect wedding straight out of one of those glossy wedding magazines.And then Kiku, full of nervous jitters, still managed to find the liquor.[a sort of sequel to "...baby, one more time".]





	oops! ...I did it again

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to theknot.com and the bajillion other wedding websites i used for research, i think i'm qualified to plan weddings after writing this fic
> 
> this was a good few months in the making, and i'm happy to see it finally sort of DONE

“Can’t we just go home? We hated all of the other places.” Alfred drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his usual bright voice dulled.

Kiku crossed out a few bulleted tasks scribbled onto the planner in his lap, checking his phone for the time. “Our appointment is in ten minutes. I don’t think they would appreciate us cancelling at the last minute.” He sighed, closing the planner and tucking his pen away into one of its pockets. “Maybe we will like this one.”

Alfred blew a raspberry, letting his head fall onto the steering wheel. His voice left as a mumble, “I doubt it.”

“Look, if nothing else works, then we will just have to hold the reception in someone’s backyard. I’m sure Arthur’s manor would be just big enough.”

_“Ugh.”_

“Come on,” Kiku tried, rubbing circles on Alfred’s back. “Have a bit of hope.”

The reception halls thus far have been less than appealing. Though, if Kiku were quite honest, he was fine with holding their wedding reception at any of them; it was only for dancing and dinner, and as long as Kiku could marry him, he would have the reception in a Target parking lot.

Alfred had different feelings about the matter.

“It has to be perfect, and dreamy, but also simple. You know? Because you’re simple and cool, and I’m sort of more obnoxious, so it has to be the perfect blend.” He said the morning before the two started their roadtrip across the country in search for the perfect wedding venue. “Ooh, what about the NASA space station?”

Kiku yawned, stirring a spoonful of honey into his tea. “Why not just go all the way to the moon?”

Alfred couldn’t help but grin, nearly knocking the tea out of Kiku’s hands as he pulled him into a hug.

The next wedding venue was situated just a few miles outside of Austin, Texas, hidden on maps but known by locals for the droopy willow trees surrounding the barn where couples recited their vows. Unsurprisingly, Kiku wasn’t a fan. Alfred entertained the idea of a barn wedding during the entirety of their trip, and up until this point, Kiku had tolerated it - but as the owner showed them where they would be spending their wedding night, the line he had invisibly drawn had been crossed.

“I’m kinda shocked by how calm you were. I half expected you to be mad.” Alfred said once they left, stopping at a cozy ice cream parlor a few miles away from the barn.

“I was insulted,” Kiku took an aggressive spoonful of his mint-chocolate ice cream, “they expect us to share our wedding night on a pile of hay? Are we horses?”

The blonde chuckled, “Well, honey, we _are_ in The Middle of Nowhere, Texas.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t ask if we were cousins. We could have gotten some kind of discount.”

“Keeks!”

Kiku huffed. “I wouldn’t mind an outdoor wedding, but I’m sorry, Alfred, I don’t think I could get married in a barn.”

Again, unsurprising. Alfred took no offense, biting into his waffle cone. His eyes strayed from the ring on Kiku’s left hand to the rose bushes outside of the window, water droplets scattered across their petals. Kiku followed his gaze, resting his cheek against the palm of his hand.

Alfred hummed. “You mentioned Arthur’s backyard.”

Kiku blinked. “I was joking.”

“I know you were, but...I don’t think it’d be that bad. And it’d be free.”

“Well, knowing Arthur, he might actually charge you something...”

“Then we’ll pay it! I just - look, I just wanna marry you, and if the only place we both like is my sort-of-dad’s backyard, then, we’ll get married in my sort-of-dad’s backyard.”

Alfred said this completely full of earnest and love, and Kiku knew he meant it as such despite the corners of his mouth being stained with chocolate, and that is why he agreed, wiping the chocolate away with a napkin and a smile. “Then, let’s get married in your sort-of-dad’s backyard.”

The next task, after driving all the way back home to New York, was to actually _ask_ Arthur if they could use his backyard. Kiku left that to Alfred, seeing as that was _his_ sort-of-dad. It only made sense.

That didn’t make the question any easier to ask.

Neither of them really wanted to travel all the way to London simply to ask, so Alfred settled for video calling him, forgetting entirely about the time differences across the sea, which resulted in a very cranky and very irritated Arthur.

“What could you possibly want this time?” His green eyes were narrowed, words biting despite being a bit slurred. “It’s nearly two in the morning -”

“I know, I forgot about time differences, I’m really, really, _really_ sorry, Art, but I wanted to, um...” He trailed off, avoiding eye contact. “Check up on you?”

Arthur yawned, scrubbing at one of his eyes. “Oh, come off it, Alfred, you want something. You don’t just _call_ me like this.” Then, he froze mid-scrub, “Unless something’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Yes, _dad_ , Kiku and I are fine.”  

The man grimaced. “Don’t call me that. It makes me feel older than I am.”

“Well, you _are_ pretty old, dude.” Alfred said. He took a big breath, “I just wanted to ask you...if Kiku and I could have the wedding ceremony and reception at your place.”

Nothing was said for a few moments, and Alfred was suddenly afraid that he had offended Arthur somehow in one of his weird ways, but there wasn’t anger anywhere on his face. He did, however, seem more alert after the question.

Alfred felt the need to say, “You don’t have to, though, it’s cool if -”

“Hang on.” Arthur left the phone’s camera facing the ceiling of his bedroom as he left to do something. Alfred paused the video call to advance a level on Candy Crush.

He was halfway through level 54 when Arthur’s voice came back. “Alright, I’ve just checked the garden. I can get Francis to help me trim the hedges a bit - it should be fine.”

“Wh - Really? You’re okay with it?”

“Why _wouldn’t_ I be okay with it?” Arthur asked, and Alfred could swear there was the smallest of smiles on his face. “I guess you could say I’m happy that you asked. It’s a nice surprise, albeit at two in the morning.”

Alfred’s smile was near-blinding. The amount of happiness and gratitude in his heart was almost too much to bear that he was at a loss for any words besides, “Thank you, dude, I love you!”

Arthur rolled his eyes with a _harumph,_ any trace of smiles gone from his face. He resumed the role of the grumpy old mentor that Alfred had come to know him as. “Right, right. And don’t call me in the middle of the goddamn night again.”

But the time to celebrate would come later. Now that the venue was officially off of Kiku’s checklist, the real struggle began.

The next few items on the list were the wedding theme, flower arrangements, music, catering, photography, tuxedos, invitations, and practicing their vows, in no particular order.

Kiku was diligent in planning the technical items on the list: invitations, tuxedos, and photography. Whatever time he did not spend doing paperwork or attending meetings was spent securing their slots for tuxedo measuring, finding a photographer and working out video packages, and designing their invitations to formally send out.

Alfred was just as meticulous with his share of duties, though nothing was decided without Kiku’s input.

(He may have gotten the responsibility of food, but Kiku was _not_ about to let him cater the reception with Chick-Fil-A nuggets. And their first dance as a married couple was certainly not going to be to “Buttons” by the Pussycat Dolls.)

Writing and practicing their vows was something each did in their separate spare time. Alfred had no issues pouring his heart and soul onto paper and memorizing it - and that was mainly due to the fact that he reminded Kiku how much he loved him nearly every single day - but Kiku found himself unable to capture his sentiments just right.

He confessed this to Feliciano one day after a meeting during lunch.

“I just - I do not know how to make it sound romantic.” He said, stirring his iced tea absentmindedly.

“I think,” the brunet didn’t look up from the menu in his hand as he spoke, ”you’re putting too much thought into this.”

“Well. Yes.”

Feliciano shook his head, “You’re trying to be some western, romantic sap when that _isn’t_ what you are. Be practical, be straightforward - be you! Alfred isn’t marrying a romance novel writer.” The man put his menu down, leaning towards Kiku. “He’s marrying _you.”_

Kiku blinked, nodding as he takes what Feliciano says to heart. He wasn’t a cheesy romance writer, but he _was_ absolutely and utterly in love with Alfred F. Jones, and that qualified him well enough to write and memorize a few sentences. Tradition was clear in his choice of words.

The two had their tuxedos measured and hemmed separately, following the tradition of not seeing the groom before the wedding (and to this Kiku asked “What’s the point? We will both be wearing the same tuxedo”), and once invitations are sent out, reservations arrived shortly after in the mail. Music was taken care of after careful discussion of what and what not to include, flowers and their bouquets were decided, and, finally, the two were able to rest for two short weeks before the rehearsal dinner.

They were curled up on the couch during an _Indiana Jones_ marathon when Kiku asked, “Are you sure you don’t want a bachelor’s party? I would understand why you would want one.”

Alfred scoffed. “Yeah, the idea sounds fun, but that’s _not_ my last night of freedom, Keeks. I’m not about that.” He pressed his lips to the crown of Kiku’s head in a kiss, “The night before the wedding is my last night before the greatest adventure of my life. So, technically, it’s the most boring night of my life.”

Kiku didn’t know what to say, so he just kissed the corner of Alfred’s lips and wondered how he got so damn lucky.

Two weeks of diligent vow memorizing passed by, and the rehearsal dinner came sooner than expected. Since the reception had been announced to be hosted at Arthur’s manor in England, everyone - including Alfred and Kiku - packed their bags and flew in just days before. Arthur made sure to have the entire manor polished and dusted from top to bottom, and got to work on the garden with Francis.

The pair were finishing up the finishing touches on the rose bushes when Kiku and Alfred arrived, Francis being the first to see their rental car over the hedges.

“Now this is sweet, my two dads out here gardening!” The blonde greeted as he entered through the garden’s gate, Kiku in tow.

Francis laughed, pulling his sunhat back. His hair had grown since the last time he has seen the pair; he tied it back with a ribbon more often now. “Trust me, this is hardly gardening. It’s mainly Arthur ordering me around while he gets a tan.”

“Francis, please. I do not tan, I burn.” Arthur huffed, but gave a smile towards Kiku afterwards. “How have you two been?”

“We’re -” Kiku shared a glance with Alfred, “- well, nervous.”

“Understandable, seeing as how stressful planning a wedding can be.” The man shook his head, “Royal weddings can be such -”

“Yes, well, they are not royalty, so the same rules do not apply, dear,” Francis interrupted, tossing his gardening gloves in Arthur’s direction to stop him before he went off on a tangent. “Come on, I’ll help you two settle in.”

* * *

 

“Wow, I can’t believe nearly everyone made it,” Alfred whispered to Kiku during the rehearsal dinner before taking a bite out of his _coq au vin,_ prepared by none other than Francis Bonnefoy. “Even Ivan. I didn’t think he’d come.”

“You two are close, I would be disappointed if he did not come,” Kiku replied. “I’m relieved that Yao has not made a scene.”

“Yet.” His fiance nudged him in the shoulder. “What? You know he isn’t exactly ‘cool’ with me.”

It was only partially true, but Kiku didn’t want to debate in the middle of dinner. He moved his attention to the guests, checking each of them off on his own mental checklist. _Yao, Ivan, Mei, Ludwig, Feliciano, Sadik, Yong Soo, Heracles, Elizaveta, Roderich, Gilbert, Francis, Matthew, Arthur -_

He was snapped out of his train of thought at the sound of someone tapping a spoon against a wine glass, and both his and Alfred’s attentions were brought to Arthur, who stood at their shared table.

“Well,” he said once everyone had turned to his direction, “I’m not one to get sentimental, and I’m _not_ going to get sentimental, but I wanted to take this time to formally congratulate you two.”

Applause followed, accompanied by some whoops and whistles. Alfred grinned at Kiku, taking hold of his hand and squeezing.

Arthur continued on. “I didn’t think Alfred would last this long with someone, but he just loves to surprise me. May the two of you continue to surprise me.”

His glass of champagne was raised, and dozens of others followed. In a dining room full of friends and family, Kiku and Alfred were overwhelmed with so much love they didn’t know what to do with. Hands warm and hearts warmer, they raised their glasses.

(Once Matthew and Arthur found out Alfred refused a bachelor’s party, they both insisted on taking him out for proper drinks afterwards. Yong-Soo and Li Xiao dragged Kiku out to a different bar as well, making sure to cut Kiku off at exactly two drinks, nothing more and nothing less.)

That night, once everyone had left, the pair bid each other good night before retiring to their separate rooms. It’s only for one night before one of the biggest days of their lives, but for some reason, it felt like the night would last longer than an eternity.

“Alfred, you’re being dramatic.” Kiku said, laughing. “Save the drama for your vows. I already know you’re going to cry.”

He was probably right, and Alfred didn’t disagree. One more kiss and the two tried to calm the butterflies in their stomachs enough to get some sleep.

Tomorrow was going to be a magical, beautiful day.

(And Kiku spent a majority of it drunk, but that wasn’t until later.)

The morning that followed had a particular set of tasks needed to be done and in a particular order: pick up their bouquets, check in with their respective best men (or, in Kiku’s case, best _woman)_ , double check with the caterers and photography, set up the chairs and decorations in the garden, get dressed, and go over the vows once more - and all of this needed to be done separately, so as to not accidentally catch a glimpse of each other before the ceremony.

First things first, Kiku knew Alfred would oversleep, so he took the liberty of knocking on the man’s door loudly before slipping a letter under his door. Once he was sure Alfred was up, he left to collect their bouquets.

The blonde almost fell back asleep until he remembered what day it was. He nearly tripped getting out of bed after Kiku knocked, and when he noticed the letter on the ground, he smiled. 

After pocketing the letter, Alfred’s day formally started.

Checking in with Matthew was painless enough - he was awake far before Alfred was and had begun setting up the chairs outside with Francis and Arthur - and he phoned the caterers and photographers before Kiku pulled back into the driveway. Francis shooed him back into his guestroom, eyes covered and closed, and the last thing he heard before his door was shut was Kiku’s laughter trailing from the foyer.

Now that he was alone, Alfred could focus on one of the hardest speeches he’d ever have to memorize - his vows.

Matthew had helped him with them for months following up to this day via phone calls and whenever they got the chance to actually hang out face-to-face (they usually went for a round of hockey when one or the other visited, and even that time was spent yelling vows back and forth to each other in the middle of the ice rink).

And Kiku, on the other side of the wall in his own guest room, practiced his own with just as much anticipation. There was only a two hours before guests will begin to arrive, and then thirty minutes after that the ceremony would take place.

He studied his black tux hanging on the door to the closet, still wrapped in plastic and as crisp as it would ever be. In just two hours and thirty minutes, he would walk down an aisle and straight into the arms of a man he had grown to love over nearly a century. There would be flowers in his hands, dozens of eyes on him, all smiles and tears (probably from Feliciano) as he took those steps towards that man who arrived on a black ship, throwing open his doors to the outside world.

Kiku sighed. They had come a _long_ way from Kiku initially hating Alfred to sharing a bed - among other things - with him. It made him laugh.

An hour passed and Alfred had managed to tie his bowtie perfectly - and it only took nearly five tries - after which he quickly scribbled a response letter to Kiku’s from that morning. Contacts in, hair slicked back, coat tails freshly ironed, and Alfred F. Jones was more prepared to get married than he has ever been in his life.

(Just to be safe, however, he tucked his vows into an inner pocket of his coat.)

Slipping the letter under Kiku’s door, he knocked twice, then ran off to join Arthur and Francis in seeing the guests to their seats. There was a buzzing crowd already gathering outside, the excitement nearly palpable. When the couple sat down and began actually talking of their wedding, Alfred and Kiku agreed to keep their own traditions aside, settling for a rather simple, religionless wedding with an officiate - despite Alfred’s several attempts to persuade Kiku of throwing an extravagant wedding just to show off the fact that he was marrying “the most handsome and smart and badass man he’s ever laid eyes on”.

The aisle talk was...interesting, at best.

“So, am I walking down the aisle?” Alfred asked. “I dunno if I can convince Arthur to escort me, though.”

Kiku tilted his head slightly in a questioning manner. “Why would you walk down the aisle?”

“Because that’s the tradition, the father gives the bride away to -”

 _“Darling,”_ Kiku shook his head at his fiance’s suggestion, using the Japanese pet name he had granted him years before, “That would suggest you are the ‘woman’ in this relationship. Neither of us are women. And Arthur is not exactly your father, as you said yourself. I doubt he would agree to ‘give you away’ when he doesn’t even own you.” He wanted to laugh; and people assumed Kiku was the one bound by tradition. “I thought you were going into this marriage of your own free will. _I_ certainly am.”

“Of course I’m willingly marrying you! I talk about it all the damn time, you _hate_ when I brag to strangers.”

“Then we will both walk down the aisle - or two, or however many it takes.” In a rare moment of suave affection that only Alfred had come to know Kiku was capable of, he added with an endearing look reserved only for his fiance and Pochi, “You know I would cross oceans to reach that altar and properly call you mine.”

A cage of butterflies was set loose in the blonde’s stomach as his heart soared. Yes, this was the side of Kiku that no one but him knew about, and it was the only damn secret he kept close. There will be two aisles running down the garden in a “V” shape, meeting at the apex of the letter where the altar will stand.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the blonde bounding from the manor’s doors into the garden, running a hand through his hair. “Finally! You certainly took your time.”

“At least I actually brushed my hair, dude,” Alfred said, adjusting his cufflinks. “How are we with time? Is everyone here?”

“We’re fine, and nearly everyone is here,” Arthur looked from his watch to the several guests who were either mingling or already seated. “Yao is going to get Kiku once everything’s ready. Are you alright?”

Alfred was done with his cufflinks and was instead fidgeting with one of the buttons on his coat. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m totally fine, dude, never been -”

“Stop. You’re nervous.”

 _“Why_ would I be nervous.”

“Alfred, you’re about to marry the man of your damn overly-romanticized dreams, you’re allowed to be high-strung. Hell, _I’m_ on edge. I just want this to go well for you.” He regarded his former charge with an emotion that Alfred hadn’t seen in his eyes since he was younger. “I’m proud of you, you know. I always have been.”

It’s much too early to begin crying, but Alfred felt the familiar pinprick of tears behind his eyes as Arthur said this to him. It was as if he was suddenly seven years old again and Arthur was right at the center of his small world.

“I know you hate hearing it, but you grew up to be so similar to me that it caught me off guard.” He added, and while he wasn’t smiling, Alfred knew he was happy. “I couldn’t have asked for a better charge.”

Despite any protests, he pulled the shorter man into a tight hug, screwing his eyes shut to stop the tears from flowing. Arthur wasn’t quite sure what to do - there was a warmth in his chest and pleasant memories running through his mind - so he settled for returning the hug briefly before patting Alfred’s back.

“Right. Well, enough with the tears, boy, you don’t want to look a mess for the photos.” He said, clearing his throat. He wasn’t crying, and he wasn’t _going_ to cry. At least, that’s what he told himself. “Come on, save it for your vows.”

Alfred sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He smooths his vest with slightly trembling hands, “Does everyone know I’m going to cry at some point? Kiku said the same thing.”

“It isn’t a secret that you’re emotional.” Arthur nodded towards the altar, “It’s nearly time.”

Right. The reason everyone was so dressed up and why Alfred’s heart was about to break out of his chest.

Matthew caught up to the pair, a questioning look on his face towards Alfred’s sniffling. “Jeez, is he already crying?”

“I _get_ it, I’m fucking emotional,” Alfred punched Matthew’s shoulder lightly, “You would be, too, if you were getting married.”

“I literally wouldn’t.”

As Arthur mentioned, Yao then left the garden to fetch Kiku from his guest room. Who, just like his fiance, was battling the flutter of his heart as he adjusted his silver cufflinks.

Yao knocks with two knuckles, announcing himself before opening the door. Kiku turned from the vanity in the corner, face pale - and much more than usual.

“What’s the matter?” Yao asked, scrunching up his nose, “Did you powder your face?”

“I - um,” Kiku glanced from the mirror to the man in the doorway, “No. No, I think I am just -”

“Anxious.” He leaned against the door frame, sighing. “I knew it. I was wondering when you would lose your nerve.”

When Kiku didn’t reply, he closed the door behind him and sat on the bed, patting the space next to him. “Come. Sit, and tell me what’s wrong.” Yao grinned cheekily and added, “Just like you did when you were tiny.”

Kiku remembered the conversations he would have with his former ward between the tall bamboo shoots, scuffing his shoes on the ground as he mumbled what was bothering him that day or why he didn’t want to go in for supper. Most of the time, and Yao remembered this perfectly and still carried it with him to this day, Kiku was lonely and did not want Yao to leave him alone again.

With these memories in mind, the groom took a seat next to the man dressed in dark red traditional _changshan,_ always one to impress with the finest robes at any event.

“You cannot be sad that I am leaving you again,” Yao said with a huff, “If I am not mistaken, _you_ are walking into this marriage by your own free will.”

“Of course I am, and I am very excited to do so.” Kiku said.

“Then what is the issue here?”

“It’s normal to be nervous before something like this.” Kiku said this more to himself than to Yao, and continued, “I just - I don’t want to disappoint Alfred. What if things fall apart once we -”

The well-dressed man stood from the bed with a stomp, bringing his hands to his hips rather indignantly. “Kiku goddamn Honda, Country of goddamn Japan, you _cannot_ be spouting this bullshit to me in this very room on this very day - _your_ wedding day.”

“Well, I -”

“No, there is no ‘well, I’ or ‘you see, Yao, the thing is’. You cannot talk your way out of this one like you did when you were younger and you wanted an extra red bean bun after inhaling four in five minutes.”

Kiku couldn’t help but laugh; it lifts his anxiety off of his shoulders just a bit. “Yao, I did not eat that much when I was a child.”

“My back pain from carrying you seems to say other wise. Now listen to me, Kiku Honda, because I sure as hell will not say this again: that man - that stupid, loud and obnoxious blonde mess of cheeseburger grease and gun laws is absolutely head over heels in love with you. Even _after_ what you both went through in the past, he is still here, and _you_ are still here.

“You are both adults, and you both came to the conclusion that you will set your differences aside to be wed because you both continue to _choose_ each other. Not many people do that, you know. People change and move on, and love fizzles out like a cheap fire cracker. But, and I still do not understand completely why, you two have not fizzled. You have changed, yes,” He knelt in front of Kiku, taking his hands apart from each other to stop their fidgeting, “but in wonderful, good ways. And that, my little tiger, is the best thing that I could wish for you. To grow and learn from your mistakes to become a better man.”

Now, Kiku was not a very emotional man, and most knew that not much could make him cry to begin with - but when Yao was in front of him raving about how much his cheeseburger grease ball fiance was in love with him and how they have changed for the better, no one could blame him for shedding a few tears. Yao clicked his tongue as he stood up, pulling the smaller man into an embrace. He hushed him, stroking his hair in that way that he remembers Kiku liking when he was younger, and told him to stop crying or else he would drag him out to the ceremony as he was: snot-nosed and puffy eyed.

“And I will be sure to get it on Snapchat and Instagram.” Yao said once Kiku had calmed down and was dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a tissue.

Kiku sniffled. “I thought you didn’t know how to use either of those.”

“What do you take me for, a senile old rooster? I am a fast learner - especially when both of those platforms exist to make me look even more beautiful than I already am.”

The buzz from the guests outside began to die down once Alfred and Matthew took up their positions at one end of the aisle and at the altar, anticipation remaining a low hum within the crowd. A few more moments and the procession music began softly, a cue for the guests to stand and turn towards either of the aisles dividing them. Alfred knew it was his time to walk down the aisle dusted with white daisy petals, and does so with shaky legs and jitters he hadn’t had the chance to shake off.

His eyes darted between the altar and the opposite aisle, hoping to catch a glimpse of his beautiful future taking the same - if not smaller and with much more grace - steps as he is. Kiku was much shorter than most of the guests and thus Alfred cannot see him through or above the crowd, so he settled for focusing on his own semi-graceful journey towards the officiant. Matthew and Mei wait opposite of each other.

Alfred did a double take when they finally come into view of each other, and Kiku bites back a grin. They are both fashioned in sleek black and silk bow ties, shoes impossibly shiny and coattails tucked behind them. Alfred was sans glasses, opting for a pair of contacts that left his star-speckled freckles scattered across his warm cheeks exposed, the blue in his eyes as clear as a summer’s day. Kiku held himself back from touching his fingertips to those freckles, hands tightening around his bouquet as they finally stood face to face before their friends and family; in front of the whole world, as it is meant to be.

Arthur vowed to keep a mental note of the amount of times Alfred cries during his wedding for a bet, and this would be the first.

Their guests took their seats, and the officiant began the ceremony with soft eyes and a softer tone of voice.

The ceremony was a whirlwind of the meaning of love, the sacrifices put forward from each party once they each utter the words “I do”, and reminders of when the going gets tough, sit down and communicate with each other before things escalate into an unnecessary fight. It was very simple, retaining elegance through the usage of flowery language and gentle smiles. Kiku and Alfred were near oblivious to it.

It was when the the officiant began the declaration of intent that they both snapped back into their rosy reality, looking from each other to the officiant, who addressed the taller of the two first.

“Will you, Alfred F. Jones, take this man to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

He looked towards the man he met all those faraway years ago in 1853, both unaware of the history they would create with each other in the years to come. With memories of cherry blossoms and the taste of sea salt on his tongue, Alfred said, “I do.”

The question was repeated towards Kiku, who met Alfred’s eyes with the same memories fresh in his mind and heart and said, “I do.”

There was a whoop from the guests behind them, and neither of them turn from gazing at each other to see who it was (though they are pretty certain it came from a loud-mouthed albino). After another brief speech about the very topic they were all gathered there today for, the moment of reciting their vows to each other dawned upon them. They each handed their bouquets to their best men, finally - _finally -_ joining hands to recite their vows. Alfred smiled a bit bigger when he felt his fiance’s hands trembling in his own, and he gave them a small squeeze.

“Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, it is time to read the vows you two have written to each other.” Upon hearing those words, the two looked up from their joined hands to each other, the words they have been dying to say to each other for the past agonizing months on the tips of their tongues.

Kiku was the first to begin speaking, after he took a deep breath.

“Alfred. I am not one for romance - as I’m sure you and many others here know by now - but I _am_ one for tradition.” He said, then, in his flawless native language, he recited, _“This man, I marry, no matter what the health situation is. I will love this person, respect this person, console this person, and help this person until death. Protecting fidelity, I swear.”_

Alfred was near tears again and absolutely no one was surprised. With a sniffle and a low laugh from the guests - including Kiku, who reached up and wiped Alfred’s tears away with kind hands - he took a breath of his own and met Kiku’s eyes.

“Everyone knows I’m a big cry baby, so sorry if I break down in the middle of this.” He started off, earning another laugh from the man holding his hands and the guests.

“Kiku, I choose you. To stand by your side and sleep in your arms. To be joy to your heart and food - although sort of greasy - for your soul. Before you asked me, I was yours and I am devoted to you in every single way. I promise to respect you and cherish you as an individual, a partner, and an equal, knowing that we don’t complete, but complement each other.

“I choose you, Kiku, and I will continue to do so until the world stops spinning and the stars fall from the sky. I adore you, and nothing’s gonna change that. You’re it for me, exactly as you are and as you will be.”

Before the crowd could ensue any response, the blonde added, _“And,_ since I know you’re a stickler for tradition, too...” Alfred grinned, his smooth and near natural Japanese surprising both Kiku and the guests, “ _This man, I marry, no matter what the health situation is. I will love this person, respect this person, console this person, and help this person until death. Protecting fidelity, I swear.”_

Stunned, Kiku could only smile, overflowing with so much tenderness and gratitude that he was afraid he would begin crying alongside his husband-to-be. The moment was short-lived, but what comes next only heighten their spirits as Matthew and Mei presented the rings to their respective groomsmen, exchanging quick hugs - in Mei and Kiku’s case, at least; Alfred nearly squeezed all the air out of Matthew’s lungs - before they turned back to each other once more.

The officiant gave the brief script for each to repeat as they slid the golden bands on each other’s fingers, and Alfred was the first to repeat through his wavering voice.

“Kiku,” he began, taking the man’s slender hand into his, “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion. I offer my heart, my hand, and my love. I join my life with yours to honor and protect you as my husband, with all that I have and all that I am.”

The ring looked beyond perfect in both of their eyes, and Kiku wasted no time in giving Alfred’s his to match. He repeated with a level voice, though excitement lays just under his words, “Alfred, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion. I offer my heart, my hand, and my love. I join my life with yours to honor and protect you as my husband, with all that I have and all that I am.”

He heard a sniffle, and he didn’t need to look up to see that Alfred was consumed by tears. There was an urge to kiss them away, but Kiku stopped himself from spoiling the final part of the ceremony so quickly. The pair turned back towards the officiant, one of them bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation of what comes next:

“By the power of your love and commitment towards each other and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss!”

The officiant did not have time to even finish the word “kiss” before Alfred had Kiku’s face in his hands, bringing their lips together in what was possibly his favorite kiss from Kiku. The raven-haired man returned the kiss with matched zeal, delight taking over every one of his senses as he moves to wrap his arms around Alfred’s neck. The guests applauded, whooped and hollered - not exactly in that order.

The blonde’s arms moved to Kiku’s waist, picking him up off the ground to twirl as laughter poured from his husband - who he can finally label him confidently and proudly so. With a quick “thank you” thrown to the officiant, the two turned to take their first steps together down one of the two aisles as newlyweds, flower petals showering them from almost all directions.

It felt like a dream. A warm, teary, flower-petal covered dream that neither of them wanted to wake up from.

And then Kiku found the liquor.

To be fair, the alcohol that was to be served to the guests was not necessarily “hidden” - it came out after the ceremony was finished and the caterers began setting up for the reception for the evening. Everyone had moved into Arthur’s manor for the time being, Alfred and Kiku reveling in the spotlight as everyone wished them congratulations.

The mini bar was set just between Arthur’s prized rose bushes (which he will tell you he grew himself, though Francis will tell you the complete opposite), a quaint little thing that Alfred came up with, with the help of Francis. It matched the garden perfectly and hardly stood out against the flora and fauna around it.

Yao knew this, and also knew Kiku was still incredibly anxious, and figured he could use a glass of champagne to calm his nerves. That, and Kiku was very fun when he was drunk, if the stories of his and Alfred’s engagement were any evidence.

“Kiku,” The man said, fanning himself with his hand, “the bar’s set up, go get me a drink. Arthur’s probably got the AC turned off, the cheap bastard.”

Kiku didn’t see the harm in it, and excused himself from the room for a brief moment to head out into the garden.

How he always found himself drunk at the worst of times is a mystery to no one but himself. As if he didn’t see the shimmering drink, listened to Yao’s request for a drink, walked outside and accepted a glass from the bartender despite the nagging voice in his head - that sounded a lot like Alfred - telling him to relax.

He didn’t need to relax. He had no reason to even be anxious. He had just officially married the man he loved nearly as much as his dog. He just wanted a drink, he supposed. Or maybe two. Well, three couldn’t hurt. This was _his_ wedding, after all. He deserved to let loose for a little while.

Yao noticed Kiku’s prolonged absence, and during a conversation with Alfred and Ivan, casually mentioned, “Alfred, the mini-bar should be set up by now, right?”

“I think so, yeah,” He said, glancing outside through the large windows spanning the wall. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” He studied his nails. “Just wondering where Kiku might have wandered off to.”

Alfred stiffened. “I’ll be...right back.”

Ivan and Yao shared a knowing look before joining a nearby conversation about one of Ludwig’s dogs.

Kiku was picking up his sixth glass when Alfred carefully pulled it out of his hand, setting it back down onto the bar counter. The shorter man frowned, looking up at the blonde in an attempt at irritation. “What?”

“Keeks, the reception hasn’t even started.”

“I know that. Of course I know that, no one is even out here.”

“So what are _you_ doing out here?”

“Yao wanted a drink.” He held up a half empty glass.

Alfred sighed, running a hand through his slicked hair. “And you drank nearly -” he counted the empty glasses, “five glasses because…?”

Kiku also sighed, a dramatic sound that he only made when he was drunk or nearly there. “Because it’s also _my_ wedding and I can drink if I want to. I can handle my liquor much better, you know, I’m not going to embarrass you like I did at the karaoke bar -”

“I’m not worried you’re gonna embarrass me, honey, I’m worried you’re gonna embarrass _yourself_ again. Let’s get you some food so you can sober up, at least.”

“I’m comp-l _etely_ sober.” Kiku insisted, poking Alfred’s chest indignantly. “Maybe you’re the drunk one.”

Alfred wanted to laugh, but knew better and bit his tongue. “Maybe I am. So we should go get some food to help me get sober, right?”

“Exactly. Exactly! Food sounds very good right now. What did - What did we decide for catering? Where are the chicken nuggets?”

Alfred took Kiku by the hand towards the manor, promising to get him some Chick-Fil-A nuggets as soon as they were in Arthur’s kitchen. He tried to keep the situation looking as normal as possible, giving lame excuses as to why Kiku was clinging so closely to Alfred and giggling so much. “He’s just _really_ happy, I guess!”, or “He’s just so excited for dinner and dancing, you know?” were just a few of the excuses he gave to Feliciano and Heracles as the pair passed through the crowded living room and dining room.

Finally in the privacy of the - rather spacious, despite the lack of actual cooking given Arthur’s skillset - kitchen, Alfred felt like he could finally breathe. He sat Kiku down at the dining table, plucking a strawberry from a nearby cheese platter to hand it to him.

“This isn’t a chicken nugget.” Kiku took the fruit anyways, biting into it. “Why aren’t we on the dancefloor, already? I can dance, I’ve been practicing.”

“I’m sure you have, honey bee,” Alfred said, popping a grape into his mouth. “And I can’t wait to dance with you. When you’re _sober.”_

“Okay, so I had a few drinks, but like I said, it’s _my -”_

“It’s _your_ wedding and you can drink if you want to, I know. Not like it’s also kind of _my_ wedding, too.”

“But you’re not nervous about getting married, you’re the type of person who’s never nervous about anything.” Kiku took another strawberry from the plate. “I wish I were like that.”

Alfred stopped mid-chew. “Keeks, were you nervous? About today?”

“I’m - no, of course not. Well, maybe,” He wrung his hands together, groaning in that dramatic way that only came out when he was intoxicated. “Yes, yes I am, I’m nervous because I don’t want to mess this up with you. I’ve never even _thought_ of getting married before until you and that _scares_ me. Yao told me not to worry, but I can’t help but worry.”

By this point, Alfred had left his spot at the kitchen counter to instead kneel in front of Kiku, taking his smaller hands into his own. “But you _don’t_ have to worry, you know. And if it makes you feel better, I was anxious all day, too. Even now, I’m worried you might suddenly call the wedding off and we’d have to get a divorce, like, tomorrow.”

“I would never do that!” Kiku finished off his strawberry and added in between chews, “You’re much too precious to me to just leave like that, Alfred. I know I don’t tell you enough - and maybe I should, but it’s just so embarrassing sometimes because I have a lot to say - but I really do like you and love you more than anyone else besides Pochi.”

“I should let you drink more often,” Alfred laughed, pinching one of Kiku’s cheeks lightly, “You’re a real sweet talker when you’re drunk.”

“You’re absolutely right. Get me another glass of champagne and I’ll serenade you again.”

“The offer is very tempting, but I’d rather hang out with sober Keeks. I didn’t fall for drunk Kiku.”

Before Kiku could protest and demand more champagne, Alfred kissed him with the same zeal as he did at the altar, ignoring the too-sweet taste of strawberries. And while Kiku wanted alcohol, he wanted Alfred more, forgetting the glasses of champagne in lieu for Alfred’s arms and lips.

Yao, who had been standing near the entrance to the kitchen for the past few minutes, left as quietly as he came, smiling.

The reception finally and formally began with the groomsmen’s first dance, all eyes on them as Alfred twirled (a now slightly more sober) Kiku around the dance floor. Under the dim fairy lights, looking as elegant as he’s ever seen him, Kiku thought Alfred looked divine.

Alfred dipped Kiku during their dance and murmured, “Just to be clear, I like and love you just as much.”

Kiku laughed, leaning up to peck his lips. “I know.”

Now that the majority of their sappy, romantic showcase was over with, the reception could _really_ begin - at least, that’s what Gilbert declared as he pulled Ludwig out onto the dance floor, Feliciano following behind them. The music was changed to something much more upbeat, and the dancefloor gradually filled with guests. Alfred pushed through the crowd towards the Arthur’s table, taking his hands to pull him onto the dancefloor.

“I don’t dance!” Arthur insisted, but Alfred already had him out of his seat. “Alfred, really - “

“Come on! I think I deserve to have a dance with my dad.”

“I’m not - stop calling me that, for Christ’s sake.”

Francis pushed Arthur further onto the dancefloor, “Alfred’s right, go spend time with your

son on his wedding day!”

Kiku didn’t even have to ask Yao to dance. He had two glasses of champagne emptied by the

time Kiku reached his table and stood as soon as the man extended his hand, yelling, “About time you asked!”

Somewhere in between the music and dancing, Yao shoved another glass of champagne into

Kiku’s hands, followed by another, and another, until Kiku was back to being as giggly as he had gotten earlier. Which, Alfred supposed, was alright, seeing as the party was in full swing and nearly everyone was close to if not already drunk as well.

Kiku then had the bright idea to make a song request to the DJ, picking another one of Alfred’s favorite songs. He said he would serenade him, after all, and he always kept his - albeit drunken - promises.

Lucky for him and the rest of the guests, the DJ had a spare mic to lend him. No one noticed him making his way to the middle of the dance floor, which had more or less cleared up, until the opening notes of the song blared through the speakers.

 _Everyone_ knew this song. There was not a damn person in that garden who didn’t know this song. _Especially_ Alfred. As soon as the song began, he looked towards the DJ booth, certainly not expecting his drunk husband to be holding a microphone and taking off his jacket.

Kiku didn’t make any warning or announcement beforehand, and simply jumped into the song. _“I think I did it again - made you believe we’re more than just friends, oh baby -”_

Alfred’s face instantly flushed, and he couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of his lips. Roars of encouragement egged Kiku on as he neared Alfred’s table. _“It might seem like a crush, but it doesn’t mean that I’m serious -_

 _“‘Cause to lose all of my senses, that is just so typically me,”_ Alfred bit back his laughter as Kiku ran a hand through his hair in an attempt at sultriness that didn’t even come close, _“Oh, baby, baby!”_

Alfred leapt up from his table, pulling the mic in Kiku’s hand close, _“Oops! I did it again, I played with your heart, got lost in the game, oh, baby, baby!”_

Kiku snickered, surprised but delighted all at the same time. “ _Oops! You think I’m in love, that I’m sent from above -”_

_“I’m not that innocent!”_

Kiku was too busy laughing to even try to finish the rest of the song, so Alfred took the mic and finished with as much overdone sexual appeal as he could muster. He was sure this entire thing was going to be across Snapchat and Instagram by tomorrow morning, along with Kiku - who was enjoying this _way_ too much - so he figured he might as well go out doing Britney Spears justice.

By the end of it, his jacket had been tossed in the direction of Feliciano’s table, his hair was mussed and back to it’s usual fluffy state, and both he and Kiku’s dress shirts were half unbuttoned. Their shoes were also missing, but Kiku told Alfred that it was much easier to dance, and really, who was Alfred to say otherwise?

(And he supposed it really was easier to dance when a few swing tunes were queued.)

Around three forty two in the morning, Alfred found Kiku passed out in Feliciano’s lap,

who was leaning on Ludwig’s shoulder. Ludwig was half asleep, himself.

It was high time the reception, and the dreamy magic of their wedding day, came to a close.

Matthew was among the few still somewhat functioning besides Alfred, who had grabbed a mic to thank the guests for coming out before officially bidding everyone good night and offering Arthur’s guest rooms in case they weren’t able to drive back to their hotels - which most of them were grateful for.

“Are you sure you don’t need us to stay behind and help with cleanup?” Alfred asked Francis, who had a drowsy Arthur clinging to his shoulder.

 _“Non,_ of course not. Go check into your hotel, we’ll just cleanup tomorrow.” The blonde said, waving him off.  “It’s technically still your wedding night, you know. Go enjoy it the last of it!”

Alfred flushed, thanking him and Arthur. Ludwig had fully woken up and was being very careful not to wake Kiku or Feliciano, carefully reaching for his phone on the table to call an Uber.

When he saw Alfred walking over, he smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kiku that drunk, before. Even Feliciano was surprised.”

“Yeah, he might not look it, but he knows how to party.” He said. “He’ll regret it in the morning, though. Especially once he sees he’s all over Snapchat.”

“I’m glad he found someone that he can have fun with. I didn’t expect Kiku to make the choice to get married, but he’s changed since he’s been with you.”

“We both have.” Alfred said. “Hopefully for the better.”

The blonde gently shook Kiku’s shoulder, “Keeks, reception’s over.”

Kiku blinked his eyes open, wincing at the slight throb in his head. He sat up, rubbing one of his eyes, “Wha - already?”

“Yeah, dude,” Alfred chuckled, taking one of his hands. “Come on, we gotta get to the hotel soon.”

“Carry me?”

Alfred made sure that Matthew saw all the guests either in their guest rooms or safetly driving to back their hotels, and grabbed his and Kiku’s overnight bags. With Kiku draped onto his back, Alfred piggybacked him to the rental car per his request.

They had both imagined they would check into their hotel much earlier, and it would seem that so did the hotel concierge, but one look at their ruffled appearance and the man dozing off on Alfred’s shoulder was enough explanation as to how their night went.

Their hotel suite was certainly prepared for their supposed wedding night, at least. Red rose petals were dusted across their bed, along with a bouquet of red roses sitting on one of the nightstands. When Alfred checked the bathroom, he was delightfully surprised to find the bathtub decorated for the occasion, as well - candles and more rose petals accompanied by a bottle of champagne in ice.

He dumped Kiku onto the mattress, who immediately grabbed most of the sheets and wrapped himself up. Alfred was going through their overnight bags, pausing when his hand brushed something thin and lacy - but as he looked at Kiku, he knew that neither of them had the energy to do anything more than sleep.

So, instead of the creamy white lingerie he had packed, Alfred settled for sweats and a t-shirt, switching his contacts out for his glasses.

“Keeks, baby,” He said, brushing some hair from the man’s face, “Come on, at least change into some pj’s.”

Kiku nodded, crawling over towards their bags to fish for one of Alfred’s t-shirts and pair of boxers. As he shrugged out of his dress shirt, he said, “I had - I had something planned for tonight. I really did. I picked out something to wear for you, something I knew you’d like.”

“I know. So did I.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Alfred asked, leaning down to press a kiss to Kiku’s forehead. “You know I’d always prefer you in one of my t-shirts and awful bedhead over lingerie any day.”

Kiku smiled, stepping onto his tip-toes to meet Alfred’s lips in a kiss. “And I prefer you in pj’s and poofy hair.”

They brushed the rose petals off the bed, and slid under the warmth of the fluffy sheets, exhaustion suddenly heavy in their bones. Their window was left uncovered, milky moonlight streaming in and spilling over their bed and faces. The sky was full of stars.

“Good night, Mr. Jones-Honda.” Kiku said, muffled by the fabric of Alfred’s shirt. Their hands were joined beneath the blankets, legs tangled.

Alfred squeezed his hand. “Good night, Mr. Jones-Honda.”

The Jones-Hondas slept for the next twelve hours, totally content in their rosy bubble of a hotel suite.

**Author's Note:**

> real talk my heart was so full while writing this, i just love ameripan so god dang much i legit teared up writing their vows and every other cheesy moment 
> 
> and of course another shoutout to the ameripan discord gang, who gave me the idea for the sex-less wedding night scene and more Drunk Kiku singing Britney Spears. i thought the ideas were just too good and too cute to pass up (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ
> 
> btw what do y’all think kiku & alfred’s First dance be to? I like to think it’d be to childish gambino’s Soft cover of “so into you”


End file.
